


Lord Selwyn's timely intervention

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [55]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 8x4 missing scene, Confession and fluff, F/M, Season 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 09:50:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19926112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Brienne is disturbed when Selwyn Tarth informs her that she has to pick one from a list of prospective grooms he's chosen for her. Jaime has an answer to her problem.





	Lord Selwyn's timely intervention

**Author's Note:**

> More of my random fluffy musings turned into a fic. Hope you enjoy it!

“Ah, here you are,” said Jaime, glad to have located the wench after nearly an hour of searching the castle for her. “An odd choice for a place to spend some free time in,” he observed, scanning his surroundings, while wondering what she was doing here, in these deserted woods beyond the castle gates.

A sense of discomfort rapidly rose in his chest when she stood there, unmoved and silent despite his announcement of his presence, her back to him, yet to show some sign of acknowledgement for his arrival.

“What is it, Brienne?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist as soon as he approached her in a couple of quick strides.

“Nothing,” she said, more to herself, “it’s--it’s not important.” _An obvious attempt to_ _trivialise whatever’s troubling her_ , thought Jaime, hoping she’d soon open up to him _._ Something about her demeanour was strange tonight. Usually, she crumbled at his touch, caving in to his advances the moment he laid a finger on her. And going by the history of their torrid lovemaking routine, by this time, they would’ve been inseparable, their lips and bodies fused together as they fucked their way to heaven. But she remained where she was, neither holding his hand, nor leaning into him like she always did.

“Something’s definitely amiss,” he prodded her, nuzzling her neck, “what’s wrong?”

“I had a raven from my father,” she revealed, finally surrendering to his touch, reclining into his chest as she spoke.

“I sincerely hope he’s in good health,” Jaime wondered aloud, hoping all was well with Lord Selwyn. 

“He is,” Brienne replied, “that’s not the problem.”

“What is it, then?” he whispered, planting a tender kiss behind her ears.

She squirmed when his mouth touched her skin, and that pleased Jaime, it was more like the Brienne he knew - the woman who found him irresistible. “He wants me to--” She faltered, the words failing her when his hand slipped up her chest and to her collarbone, coming to rest on the opening of her shirt.

“Yes, my lady?” he prompted, fixing his mouth on the nape of her neck.

“He thinks I’ve fulfilled my responsibility towards Lady Sansa, and now he wants me to focus my attention to my house,” she told him, shuddering involuntarily as she succumbed to a tremor the moment he slid his hand down her shirt.

“And what does that mean?” Jaime pressed further, his hand creeping lower and lower, reaching out to parts of her that screamed to be touched.

“He wants me to marry,” she continued in a breathy voice, her ears reddening, his wandering, groping hand having the much-desired effect on her, “he wishes for me to assume the role of the Evenstar after him, to rule with my husband by my side.”

“I agree with him,” Jaime said, exhaling deeply into her back as he began dreaming of a life with the knight he loved, a future he’d never before imagined himself to be a part of, “you ought to wed a suitable man and settle down--”

“You don’t understand,” Brienne suddenly cried out, jerking his hands off and wheeling around to face him. “He has invited a handful of prospective alliances,” she told him, her eyes shining. “He expects me to choose one of them soon, and wed him within a month.”

“Your father has your best interests at heart, Brienne. It is time you look towards your house and your people,” Jaime blurted, without coming to the exact point he’d wanted to make. The second he’d said this, he regretted his lack of clarity, cursing his inability to communicate effectively. He was well past forty, but never before had he wooed a woman or asked one to marry him. Only now, when faced with a situation where he had to do it, did he realize how so not-easy it was. This time again, like the first time he’d tried to seduce her, he was close to running the risk of being reduced to a bumbling idiot. 

_I’m not going to fuck it up tonight,_ he firmly decided in his mind. A fresh wave of confidence surged though him and he drew closer to her, but she retreated, no doubt, miffed with him.

“You expect me to pick one among those noblemen who’d spare no chance to taunt me?” she snapped, her eyes threatening to reduce him to ashes.

In an attempt to placate her, Jaime tried to hold her hand, but she backed away, only to bump into the tree behind her. “Brienne, listen to me--”

“You don’t know how my life has been before I ran away to Renly,” she continued with her verbal onslaught. “You have no idea how much I’ve been ridiculed and looked down upon, so much that my father had given up all hopes of finding me a groom.”

Regret filled him when he recalled that he’d once been one among those who had taunted and belittled her. But gone were those days, and all he had now was only respect and love for her. She had misunderstood him today, his intentions, all because of his inefficiency to get the right words out when it mattered the most. “I know, wench,” he tried to calm her down, but she was relentless, attacking him like a woman on fire.

“No, you don’t,” she fumed. “Do you think it’s easy for me to silently consent to be someone’s wife?” 

“You do agree it makes sense for you to marry someday, don’t you?”

“ _This_ \--” she interrupted, her breaking voice indicating that she was on the verge of tears “--merely being someone’s wife--that’s not me--” she sniffed, finding it difficult to force the words out.

“Don’t you want marriage and children?” Jaime carefully put forward the question, fervently hoping for a positive answer, fear of rejection looming large in his mind.

“That’s not what I implied,” she replied, steadying her voice this time. “Marriage for me means love, and I can’t just--”

“Do it for love then,” Jaime butted in, struggling to get his point across.

“How can I?” she asked, throwing him an accusing look as if holding him responsible for her predicament. “I love none of them and I can’t spend my life with a man who thinks marrying me is a favour he’s gracing me with. That’s how most men have behaved with me, Jaime, having no regard for my wishes, nor even the slightest consideration--”

“ _Most_ men,” Jaime stopped her there, deciding it was time for drastic measures, “I’m not _most_ men, wench.” Without waiting for an answer, he took a step in her direction, and this time she could do nothing, trapped between him and the tree. Encouraged he moved closer, so much, that he could feel her breath on his face.

“What are you trying to say?” she whispered, blue eyes burning him with a penetrating gaze.

He touched her shoulder lightly. She shivered, but didn’t shrug him off or pull away. “Why don’t you reply to your father telling him that you’re ready to do as he says, hmm?” Sliding his hand down her arm, he found her hand.

“Jaime--” she began, her eyes showing signs of comprehension of what he was trying to tell her, but he had to say it all, to make amends for his lack of action so far, to do something he should’ve done long back.

“Tell him that you’ll marry and assume your rightful position as the heir to your house,” he said, moving his face close to hers.

“How can I do that?” she asked, her voice abnormally soft. “There’s only one man I look upon as my husband.” Abashed, she dropped her gaze, her cheeks covered with patches of pink.

“Then tell your father that. Ask him to stop seeking prospects.” He gently tilted her face upwards to meet her gaze, and the intoxicating effect those eyes had on him was tremendous. He drew in a sharp breath, the power of her proximity threatening to wipe his mind clean. “Tell him,” he went on, managing to keep the words flowing, “that you’ve found the man you want to marry,” he concluded, hoping she’d take the hint.

“I can't do such a thing when you haven’t yet--”

Jaime could take it no more. Shooting her an intense look, he shoved her against the tree and pinned her to the trunk, his body tightly pressed against hers.

“Jaime--”

He kissed her hard and rough, giving her the answers to all her questions, wiping all doubts off her mind, the message he wanted to send out, loud and clear. Closing her eyes, she responded ably, losing herself in his arms as she let him knock the bloody senses out of her. She stumbled, her knees giving way, but he caught her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers wreaking havoc on his hair. He coaxed her mouth open, and she moaned, her lips parting under his ruthless onslaught, and he made the most of the opportunity, snaking his tongue into her mouth, tasting her, breathing in her very essence, showing her that she belonged to no one, but him.

She broke away after a while, gasping for air, but the moment she’d filled her lungs, he continued from where he’d left off, reclaiming her lips. “Gods,” she whimpered, shutting her eyes again in bliss while her hands were all over his back.

“Is that a yes, wench?” he demanded, releasing her mouth so she could speak.

“For what?” she asked, her nails digging into his back as he ripped her shirt open.

“Don’t pretend, my lady,” he chided her, sliding his hand down her chest to palm her breast. “I’m yours,” he placed a wet kiss on her throat, “and you’re _mine_ ,” he mouthed, his lips just above her heart, “and I can’t stand the thought of you becoming someone else’s, be it some lord your father chooses, or that fucking wildling Tormund who couldn’t keep his lecherous eyes off you,” he growled, burning with possessiveness.

“You don’t have to be jealous of any of them,” Brienne tried to reassure him, writhing helplessly when he slammed his hips into hers.

“Say it, Brienne.” He kissed her, his need urgent and desperate as he assumed custody of her mouth again. “Say _yes_.”

“But you haven’t asked me yet,” she complained, panting heavily when she pulled away, “you never once told me that--”

“I love you,” he finished it for her, saying what he’d wanted to since the day he’d left Cersei’s side for good. “I’m terribly inefficient when it comes to voicing matters like this,” he explained, looking deeply into her eyes, hoping he’d be successful this time, “but it is you, I love, and you, I want. Marry me, Brienne, fulfil your father’s wish and my dreams--” he pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead “--and allow me to fulfil yours.”

“Would you ever have asked me had my father not taken this decision?” she asked, stroking his hair affectionately.

“If not today, I’d definitely have done it tomorrow, or the day after,” he said, grinning, “after all, hasn’t it taken me just six years to seduce you? Going by that, there’s still time,” he teased.

Brienne took her hands off him, hurt flooding those lovely blue eyes as she looked at him. “Is everything a joke to you?”

“It’s not,” he immediately pacified her, gathering her in his arms, “all I’m saying, is that I’ve been the biggest idiot in the world, one who took so long to realize he’s fallen in love.”

“You’re an idiot, no doubt,” she said, playfully patting his chest, her lips curving in a small smile, “but my idiot.”

“Does that mean you’ve agreed to be mine?” Jaime asked her again hopefully. “I love you, Ser Brienne, and I wish to marry you,” he told her again, relishing the sound of it. “I expect nothing in return, except your love, and the promise that you will live your dream. You’ll be the knight you’ve always wanted to be, wench, and I would be proud to be your husband and the father of your children.”

“You have my love,” she shyly replied, caressing his cheek, “you always did.”

“Say yes, then,” he insisted, covering her palm with his, “honour me with your hand, my lady, and put an end to my misery.”

“I’ll send a raven to my father,” she happily told him.

“Tell me you're _mine_ , wench,” he relentlessly pursued her, aching to hear those words, “and stop tormenting me like this.”

“I am yours,” she finally conceded, her smile filling his heart with warmth that had the power to melt a stone, “I love you, and I do accept your hand, Ser Jaime. I’ll tell my father that--”

“--you’ll be wed by tomorrow,” he said, kissing her on the mouth again.

“Isn’t that a little too early?” she asked, responding to his hot, furious kisses with little bites on his lips. “Isn’t it wise to wait--”

“We’ve waited long enough,” he breathed, pinning her to the trunk again with his body, “and with you in front of me like this--” He trailed away, words failing him when he dropped his gaze to take in her exposed breasts, lust beginning to blind him again as he flicked his tongue over his lips. “Why waste more time? Why don’t we start right now on those heirs your father wanted?”

“Should we return to our chambers then?” she coyly suggested, following his heated gaze.

“Not before we find out what it is like to make love in the wild.” Pressing himself against her once more, he attacked her mouth with frantic, aggressive kisses, before going on to realize his fantasy of ravishing her against a tree. 

+++++

“Was that too rough?” he asked, breathing heavily as he began pulling on his breeches, his head still reeling under the impact of their wild act of passion.

“I’m sore all over,” she complained, her lips battered and her face flushed, “and you barely allowed me to breathe.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, feeling far from sorry, her freshly-fucked look making him want to repeat the whole thing over and over again, “but you’re a knight, Ser Brienne, I thought you could withstand some rough--”

His words remained unsaid, for she pulled him into her arms and kissed him mercilessly, the mere contact of her body sending him into another uncontrollable state of arousal. “Do it again,” she demanded, placing kiss after hungry kiss on his mouth, their already bruised lips punished by yet another level of torture this time. “Make me forget the world, Jaime,” she gasped into his mouth, “drive me insane,” she ordered him, peeling off his breeches.

Needing no further motivation, Jaime said a silent thanks to Selwyn Tarth for giving him the much-needed push in the right direction before proceeding to pleasure his soon-to-be wife.

“ _Wife_ ,” he whispered into her lips, grinding his hips against hers, “has a nice ring to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> With this, I'm taking a break for the rest of this week. But I'll be back next week with updates to my ongoing fics.


End file.
